


Destinations

by suchanadorer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchanadorer/pseuds/suchanadorer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the FYSL Hotter Than Hell 2013 Fanwork Exchange</p><p>Prompt: <i>Lucifer appreciates the Earth, beautiful in a trillion different ways. He shows a few of these ways to Sam.</i></p><p>When Lucifer won't leave Sam's motel room, Sam lets the cabin fever brought on by "normal life" get the better of him. Together, he and Lucifer explore the world, but Lucifer's choice of sights to visit isn't without a purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destinations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maydei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydei/gifts).



"Don't you get bored, hanging around me all the time?" Sam asks as he opens and shuts each drawer in turn, stuffing the little dresser full with t-shirts, jeans, and matched pairs of socks.

"There is nowhere else I would rather be, Sam. You're here, so I'm here." Lucifer slouches down lower in the chair and crosses his legs at the ankles. He's become a fixture of the apartment, like some sort of benevolent gargoyle that answers when Sam thinks out loud. Lucifer likes that they’ve reached that level of comfort with each other. He hopes Sam appreciates it as well, but it seems more likely that the thought simply hasn’t occurred to him.

"Yeah, but, you have all of Earth. The whole universe to go see if you want." Sam pushes the top drawer shut and turns to lean his hip against it. "Why stay here?"

Lucifer clicks his tongue softly. 

"I waited a very long time to find you,” he replies. “I'm not going to leave you again."

Lucifer’s unshakable calm is frustrating for Sam, and he knows it. It rubs at him like sandpaper, or a pebble inside his shoe. Sam is sick of being surrounded by people who don’t know who or what he used to be. Every day he is reminded that he is not like them. He thought he’d always longed for that sort of stability, but they are so simple in their way of seeing the world. He doesn’t know how many more days he can go to work and listen to their talk about the weather and the crime on the news before he snaps and tells them everything. But he can’t, so instead he comes home and rants to the only being in his life who knows about his past.

He takes his aggravation out on Lucifer, who readily absorbs it without giving back, which makes Sam even angrier. If Lucifer thought that fighting back would help, he would consider it, but Sam’s agitation is good. It’s healthy. Sam needs to realize that his life can be so much more than this fabrication, slaving away under a fake name. He is destined for greatness, but Lucifer can not drag him there. He has to go himself.

“Take me with you,” Sam finally replies. He’s crossed his arms in front of his chest, and he’s squeezing his bicep so hard there are marks. 

Lucifer's attention never drifted from his vessel, yet he can’t help but wonder if Sam was aware of his musings. His eyes widen, then narrow as he takes in Sam's suggestion.

“You'd go with me?" Lucifer asks with a tilt of his head.

Sam shrugs, pulls the corners of his mouth down into a 'why the hell not' grimace. "I get tired of this place, too. Life I had, you get impatient being in one place too long. People don’t-"

 _People don’t understand me like you do._ Sam swallows the rest of the reply but Lucifer knows what he was thinking. Maybe it’s not lost on Sam that Lucifer is the only one in his life now who knows who he really is, and that’s part of the reason Sam doesn’t try harder to get him to leave.

Whatever the reason is, Lucifer is grateful. If Sam asked, he would go, but Sam has never asked.

Lucifer stands in a fluid motion, peeling himself up out of the chair. He crosses the room slowly, waiting for Sam to change his mind and back out, but Sam doesn't flinch, not even when Lucifer steps right into his space.

"You'd let me do this?"

Sam considers for a moment, then nods. "No time travel,” he says, holding up a finger demonstratively. “Don't take me off the planet, and don't make me miss work."

Lucifer is so close to Sam that he can feel the heat of his body, smell the spilled whiskey and lemon juice on his shirt. His eyes drift over Sam's face, looking for any sign of hesitation, but there's nothing there.

_Why?_

The word is pushing against the back of Lucifer’s teeth. He wants to know what he’s done, which gesture or conversation turned the tide to make Sam the instigator. But “why?” can be a question with unintended consequences wrapped up in the answer, so he bites down on it and shoves it back down his throat.

"I pick the destinations," Lucifer suggests instead. "I follow those rules, but I decide where we go."

"And no one's possessing anyone," Sam adds quickly. It's an unnecessary caveat, and Lucifer fights to keep from rolling his eyes. How many times must he reassure Sam that it won't happen until Sam is ready?

"Agreed," Lucifer answers. “Time travel?” he adds, crinkling his nose.

“Yeah,” Sam replies. “This one time Cas... never mind.”

Sam dismisses it with a wave of his hand, as if he doesn’t want to think about it.

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime. When would you like to go?”

The change in subject lifts Sam’s spirits again. He looks at his watch, then away towards the window. It’s raining, same as it has been for three days.

“How about now?” he asks with a smirk that would have been more effective if it wasn’t so clear that he was having second thoughts.

Lucifer steps back away from Sam, turning to hook a finger under the collar of Sam’s jacket where it hangs on the back of a kitchen chair. He holds it out to Sam.

“You’re gonna want this,” Lucifer reassures him. 

Sam watches him closely as he shrugs his jacket on. He’s wary now.

If he changes his mind, Lucifer will agree. He’ll go back to his chair and perch there while Sam makes dinner, surfs the internet, then goes to bed and reads. It will be the same as every night, and that will be fine.

But Sam doesn’t change his mind. He steps forward and glances down at Lucifer’s hand where it’s loosely curled by his side.

“Well?” It’s a brave face, but there is fear in Sam’s eyes.

“May I?” Lucifer asks, raising his hand. 

Sam’s eyes cut from Lucifer’s face to his hand and back. He nods curtly, and Lucifer brushes his fingers over Sam’s forehead, transporting them both.

Lucifer clasps his hands behind his back and follows a few steps behind as Sam walks gingerly out across the ice. Sam won’t slip and fall, and the ice won’t crack underneath him. Lucifer knows this, but he also knows that telling Sam that will do nothing. This fragile trust between them isn’t yet sturdy enough for Sam to believe everything Lucifer tells him, so Lucifer stays silent. Mentioning it would only raise Sam’s suspicions.

The day is sunny, but windy, tugging at Lucifer’s shirt and tossing Sam’s hair in every direction. He makes it to his goal: a stack of slabs of ice that have cracked out of the surface and risen above it to glitter like blue glass in the sunshine. Sam puts his hand flat against it and turns back to look at Lucifer.

“Where are we?” he calls out. He’s squinting against the sun but he’s smiling, and Lucifer is pleased to see it.

“о́зеро Байка́л,” Lucifer answers.

“What?” Sam frowns and leans forward. The wind whips his hair back over his face and Lucifer’s hand twitches at his side.

“Lake Baikal. Russia.” Lucifer raises his voice just enough

This time Sam nods understanding, only to go wide-eyed a moment later. 

“Lake?” He says, stiffening. “Is it safe to walk on it?”

Sam looks down between his feet. The area of the lake they’re on is still mostly covered by snow, but the wind has cleared patches to reveal deep blue ice.

“I would never take you anywhere you weren’t safe,” Lucifer protests gently, but it’s no less than he expected. Sam will test him time and time again, waiting for the moment when Lucifer betrays his trust.

Again, Lucifer would tell him that that day will never come, but Sam is still not ready to believe him, and so it goes on the pile of things that Lucifer will not say. Not yet, at least.

Sam turns away from Lucifer again, walking slowly around the pile of ice. He drags his fingers along the smooth edges, and tiny chips of ice fly off where he scrapes his nails along a corner.

The thought of Sam dragging his nails over Lucifer’s skin forms in his mind, and he rolls it around experimentally while he watches Sam explore. It’s a welcome thought.

He stands off to the side, not wanting to get in the way of Sam’s enjoyment. Sam brushes snow off the top of the ice sheet and crouches to look up through it. He walks in a slow circle around it, boots squeaking in the snow. All Lucifer can see is the top of his head, so he steps to the side, always moving so that he can see as much of Sam as possible.

“This is amazing!” Sam shouts to him, and Lucifer nods agreement.

This planet is his Father’s greatest creation. He put more time, love, and creativity into it than He did with anything else. It is a treasure, and Lucifer will use this opportunity to show Sam that for as long as he is allowed.

The lake is one of the largest on the planet, kept clean thanks to its relative isolation. Birds soar past overhead, but other than that they are completely alone all day. Sam explores and Lucifer follows behind him like a chaperone, afraid that he will ruin the experience for Sam if he gets too close or participates too much. But he keeps Sam in sight at all times, finding a sense of peace in watching Sam explore. 

The day goes by quickly, with Sam asking questions and Lucifer answering. He’s curious, and Lucifer wants to encourage that. He wants to help Sam understand what it is they will be saving when their time comes, so he recites facts, explains the physics that allows the ice to break and stack itself, where the magnificent colors come from, and what would happen if humanity were to encroach too closely.

But soon enough it’s late and the sun is setting fire to the sky. Lucifer is sitting on the corner of an elevated ice sheet when Sam comes shuffling towards him. His cheeks are tinged pink with sun and wind burn, and he’s long since given up any attempt at making his hair obey him. It’s made him look at home here in a way that suits him. Sam should always be surrounded by nature.

“Ready to go, Sam?”

“Yeah, come on. I’m starving.” Sam extends his hand to help Lucifer to his feet, and for a moment all Lucifer can do is stare. It’s an innocent gesture made without thinking, but it’s also the first offer of help he has been given in a very long time.

Lucifer slips his hand over Sam’s palm and Sam tugs him to his feet.

“Thank you,” Lucifer says distractedly, not letting go of Sam’s hand. He’s been out in the cold all day without gloves, running his hands over ice flows and snowdrifts. He’s cold.

“No, umm, thank you,” Sam replies, pulling his hand back and tucking it into his pocket. “This was incredible. Good choice.”

“Ready?” Lucifer asks, holding up his hand again.

Sam smiles and nods, and in an instant they are back in the motel room that serves as Sam’s home. Sam holds his gaze for a moment, then drops his eyes and turns away towards the bathroom. There is silence, then the hiss of the shower starting.

Lucifer stares at the closed door and wonders where Sam’s thoughts are when he watches TV at night. He’d watched a documentary about that lake not two weeks ago, but seemed to remember nothing of what he’d seen.

They travel to Svalbard and Sam laughs with wonder, elbowing Lucifer and pointing when he sees a mother polar bear with her young. Sam is childlike in his fascination and Lucifer marvels at his innocence. He offers to take Sam closer to the bears, but Sam declines, not wanting to interfere with nature. The sentiment leave Lucifer speechless. 

After that they travel to Antarctica at night and Sam is silent for hours, watching the stars. Lucifer watches Sam watch the stars. It hurts too much to look up at them himself, but he can see them reflected in the green-brown of Sam’s eyes. When Sam speaks, his breath comes out in white puffs that hang in front of his face an Lucifer is keenly aware that his breath is still invisible. Sam explains constellations, history and mythology until Lucifer can no longer avoid following his arm up to where Sam is pointing. Sam places a hand on the back of Lucifer’s neck and guides his head until he’s sure that Lucifer is looking at the right star. Lucifer barely listens to Sam’s fairy tales about Isis and Aquarius as his skin warms under Sam’s fingertips.

The next destination is an ice flow in the north Atlantic, where the overcast sky disappears almost seamlessly into the frozen horizon. The ice that they are on will not submerge, but that doesn’t stop Sam from instinctively grabbing onto Lucifer when it rocks, one corner dipping below the surface. An orca rises up out of the water beside them, its sleek black fin slicing through the surface before it curves its spine and disappears again. The pod plays in the water around them for hours, rolling and breaching. Sam is splashed by spray until he’s wet and shivering, but still grinning. Lucifer runs a hand down his arm and he’s dry again. It earns him a grateful glance. Sam doesn’t let go of him all day, and that night when Lucifer looks down at his arm there is a detached sort of surprise at the lack of a mark, as if Sam’s warm grip should have burned his skin.

Now it’s night again, back in the motel. Sam worked all day and his caveat about time travel means that there has been no adventure, so he’s sleeping instead. After the last trip, Sam had requested Tahiti, citing a piece of trivia that people aren’t allowed to move there. Lucifer promised to take it under consideration.

Sam rolls onto his back and flings his arms out, kicking the covers down off his body. Sweat shines on his temples and in the dip of his breastbone. It’s warm in the room. Lucifer does his best to keep his chill as far from Sam as possible when Sam is sleeping, but now he wonders if Sam is starting to grow accustomed to the cold.

Lucifer moves to the side of the bed and sits. Carefully he brings his legs up and stretches out beside Sam, who rolls towards him, flinging an arm out across Lucifer legs. A tiny sound of contentment forms in Lucifer’s throat. He brushes his fingertips over Sam’s forehead, smiling when Sam instantly falls into a more restful sleep.

Since that first trip, Lucifer has thought a great deal about this opportunity he’s been given. There are many ways that he could use it, but he keeps coming back to one point: Sam needs to be prepared.

There are so many things that have happened in Sam’s life that he has not be ready for. Even if Sam seems determined to fight against it, Lucifer is certain that he will say yes, and he wants to make that transition as easy as possible for Sam. Inside Nick, Lucifer creaks and groans like a winter river trapped behind an ice boom. There is frost building up in Nick’s joints. His skin freezes until it cracks and peels away. He is brittle and will not be able to contain Lucifer much longer.

This will not be Sam’s fate. Sam was created to be perfect for Lucifer, and he will withstand the sharp edges of Lucifer’s grace, welcome them, even, when Lucifer cools the fire in his heart, his burning anger at the world that has wronged them both. 

But Lucifer is worried about Sam, so he uses these opportunities to try to show him what his future will be like. Cold, but beautiful, surrounded by the wonders of nature, with Lucifer as his companion. 

Lucifer has found that Sam was not the only one who was unprepared. Seeing the world through Sam’s eyes has been a revelatory experience. Sam is special, but Lucifer did not think that any human was capable of that level of joy at His creations. Omniscience and eternal damnation tend to take the wonder out of things, but Lucifer had felt Sam’s awe at being under the stars, the fear and then the joy when the whale had passed them. And then, when he’d turned and looked at Lucifer, there had been a fleeting moment of gratitude and trust.

It’s another two weeks before they can travel again. Lindsey is out with the flu, there is a street festival that keeps the bar open for three days straight, and Lucifer will not deny Sam what little sleep he can get.

It’s late when Sam storms into the motel room and slams the door behind him. He casts his gaze around the room as if searching for something. When his eyes finally land on Lucifer, something in his expression breaks. He looks lost and helpless, and Lucifer stands and starts towards him, fearing the return of hunters, or something even darker.

“Dean called,” Sam says, lifting his hand to hold up his cell phone.

So not hunters but a hunter. Lucifer has been very clear about demons leaving the town alone, but he can’t control Dean, and won’t do anything to hinder him.

“You’re not happy to hear from your brother?” Lucifer tests. He’s not sure what to say. Sam’s reaction to his brother’s reestablishing contact is unexpected.

“No, I.” Sam starts only to clamp his mouth shut. He frowns, shifts, and looks away as he tries to sort out his thoughts. 

Lucifer waits for Sam to collect his thoughts. He has learned to read his body language, but he has never seen Sam this torn before. Sam doesn’t do a lot of decision-making in his day to day. Grocery shopping and taking extra shifts at work cause nowhere near the caliber of distress he is currently putting himself through.

“Dean’s coming here,” Sam finally blurts out. “He called and he’s, he’s coming to pick me up tomorrow. Says I’ve had enough time to ‘sulk’ and ‘get my shit together’ and now he needs me.”

“And you’re just going to go with him.” It’s a statement, but Lucifer raises his eyebrows, leaving it open for Sam to answer.

“I. Look, it’s still the Apocalypse, okay? Just because you’ve been taking me on a world tour doesn’t mean--” 

“You asked me to,” Lucifer interrupts. Sam is going on the defensive, which makes Lucifer curious, but he won’t let him forget that this was Sam’s idea. He does wonder what it is Sam feels the need to defend.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t. I mean.”

Sam’s fists clench, the corners of his mouth twitch, and Lucifer translates. Sam speaks volumes, even when he’s silent.

Lucifer had not realized how much their time together had meant to Sam, but now that it’s threatened he sees it clearly. Sam is happy to hear from his brother, but this will mean giving up the routine that they’ve established here, a life that Dean can never know about. It would be just one line on the long list of bad decisions Sam has made.

 _Sam didn’t think they were doing anything wrong until Dean called_ , Lucifer realizes. And now he is worried that his brother will find out.

Lucifer is reminded of the guilt he felt once, the fear that his older brother would find out what he had done. He can’t watch Sam struggle with himself anymore. 

“I’ll be gone tomorrow when he gets here,” Lucifer offers. “I can go now.”

Sam had started pacing, but now he stops and steps quickly to stand in front of Lucifer, putting his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder as if that could keep him from vanishing.

“No,” Sam says. “Not yet. Don’t.”

So Lucifer doesn’t. He stays, amazed at the change that’s happened between them. When he first arrived, Sam had warded the room against him, so Lucifer became a regular the bar. Sam realized he wasn’t getting rid of him, so he let him in, and he has been letting him further and further in ever since. Without possessing him, Lucifer has still managed to fill a hole inside Sam, and it will be empty when he goes.

“Can we go... somewhere?” Sam’s voice is plaintive. He wants to escape more than just the room, but Lucifer will not keep him from his reunion with his brother.

“Of course, Sam,” Lucifer replies, already raising his hand to Sam’s temple.

Lucifer looks down at the snow piled up to the middle of their calves. Sam is already shivering, and Lucifer can see dark stains creeping up the legs of his pants where the snow melts against them.

Jealousy blooms up uninvited in his chest, and he struggles with it. It is as foreign a thought as the idea of Sam’s nails on his skin that had come unbidden during their trip to Russia. Strange, that he should envy snow because of simple physics. 

The snow melts because Sam is warm. Lucifer is an angel, beyond the laws of physics that dictate the relationship between Sam and the snow. But if he held Sam, surrounded him, Lucifer thinks he too would melt against him. He would let himself do that, go soft and malleable, form himself to Sam’s shape. He would once again know what it is to be warm.

Sam is not the only one affected by the knowledge that this is the last time they will travel together until Sam gives him the permission he needs.

A bonfire appears before them, and Sam draws back, throwing an arm up to cover his face. Lucifer watches him, waiting for Sam to adjust to the sudden warmth and the light that makes his skin glow golden in the dark of the clearing.

Sam lowers his arm, casting a glance at Lucifer. This is the first time Lucifer has offered any sort of warm comfort to Sam during their travels.

“You looked cold,” Lucifer says weakly, gesturing for Sam to go closer to the fire.

Lucifer does his best to be gentle, to make it clear that it’s a request. He wants Sam to be comfortable, to enjoy himself. He’s surprised at his own investment in it.

Sam moves towards the fire reluctantly, not wanting to let Lucifer out of his sight, but Lucifer just follows him with his eyes, hands folded together over his stomach. He doesn’t so much as sway where he stands. There is a distance between them, a sort of formality that had disappeared but has returned now. It’s as if they are no longer alone. As if Dean is already there.

Sam steps through the snow over to the fire and stops before it with a weary sigh. He stretches his hands out towards the fire, trying to work some warmth into his fingers.

Lucifer takes in the line of his back and the breadth of his shoulders. He is strong and healthy, and beautiful, and Lucifer’s jealousy mixes with anger, that his Father would give him such a perfect vessel and then see to it that he hated and refused him. It has taken time for them to get to this point, where Sam will follow with him and ask to be taken along, and now another setback.

Lucifer steps through the snow to stand behind him, and Sam shivers again. Lucifer’s chill steals the warmth of the fire, and he knows it will only be worse if he gives in, reaches out and brushes his fingers over the nape of Sam’s neck. Instead, Lucifer steps up beside Sam. He’s holding a fur that he offers to Sam. After so many weeks of getting Sam accompanied to the cold, he now worries that he was too selfish, that his desire to prepare Sam will ruin the time between tonight and when they meet again.

“Did you kill a bear to get this?” Sam asks, even as he buries his fingers in the fur and pulls it out of Lucifer’s hand. The familiar fear and disgust on his face is so plain that Lucifer has to look away, dread rising in him that Sam is already starting to push him away.

“The bear was already dead,” he tells the stars. “She was no longer using her skin, and I asked her permission.”

Out of the corner of his eye Lucifer sees Sam’s face slacken. His mouth forms a silent oh, and when he looks up at Lucifer, his expression is open, with that little crease between his eyebrows that Lucifer has waited millennia to see.

“Then, umm, thank you. And her. Thank you both, but I’m okay,” he says, draping the fur on the snow beside the fire. He sits on it and pats the spot beside him without turning to look at Lucifer.

Lucifer looks down, considering joining him. He would like to. For a moment he imagines it, sitting next to Sam and enjoying the evening. But he thinks better of it, and instead moves to stand just behind Sam instead.

The clearing is ringed by pine trees which, in their turn, are closed in by craggy peaks that line the horizon. The sky is tinged dark blue-purple at the edges and there are no clouds. 

It is a perfect canvas.

Lucifer drags his eyes from horizon to horizon and a ribbon of light streaks across the sky. It curves one way, then the other, a meandering river of green fluorescence. 

Sam sucks in a breath where he’s sitting with his knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them. Now he stretches out and leans back to get a better view. His shoulders and back come to rest against Lucifer’s shins.

“No, stay, it’s okay. It’s good,” Sam says when Lucifer starts to step back away from him. The suspicion and anger from only moments before are gone now, and when Sam tilts his head back to look up at Lucifer, there is an apology in his eyes and the set of his mouth.

When Lucifer smiles down at him, the smile is returned, and Lucifer’s heart is lightened. He didn’t want them to part on bad terms.

The aurora shimmers above them, almost flowing from one end of the sky to the other. Lucifer glances down at Sam, then tilts his head to the side. The light shifts, curving further away as a second line appears beside it. The light trails off up into the sky, as if the lines are falling but the motion is suspended.

The snow reflects pale green and blue where it’s not illuminated by the fire. Sam is completely silent, all his attention on the performance in the sky. Lucifer feels a hum of pride, and the aurora ripples.

Lucifer rolls his shoulders and the view changes again. One stream bends to a harsh U, folding in on itself without crossing the other, which swings away behind them. Brilliant white flickers in and out of view amidst the colors.

“Wait,” Sam says quietly. “Are you doing this?”

The awe in his voice sends a thrill through Lucifer. It’s been too long since someone admired him, and to have Sam be the one to do it is even better.

Lucifer raises his hand and flicks his wrist in answer. The aurora twitches and flashes a vivid neon green.

Sam rises slowly to his feet and turns to face Lucifer. 

“Show me how,” he says. His eyes flit from Lucifer’s face to his hands and body before coming up again. It’s as if he expected Lucifer to have light on his fingers, like an artist careless with his paints.

“You wouldn’t--” Lucifer starts. He doesn’t want to tell Sam what it would take for him to be able to harness this power.

“Then let me watch you do it,” Sam counters, and Lucifer knows that he has no other option. He won’t deny Sam this, even if there is very little to show.

Lucifer shifts his weight and raises his eyes to the sky again. Sam’s gaze hops back and forth between the glimmering lights and Lucifer’s face.

Lucifer raises his arms, making a show of it for Sam’s benefit. He could make the aurora dance all night without so much as blinking, but Sam has decided that he is a part of the show and Lucifer loves an audience, especially this audience. 

He preens and smiles to himself, basking in the amazement on Sam’s face. Sam is looking at him like he is something new and special, as if Sam has never seen him before. There’s something else there that Lucifer doesn’t want to put a name to, but he knows it’s not sadness, and that’s enough.

“I looked forward to this,” Lucifer says softly. “Before.”

It hurts to talk about it, but he wants Sam to know, and he doubts he’ll get another opportunity for a simple conversation with him.

“My brothers and I, we planned what we wanted to do when everything was ready. Gabriel was going to walk in the forests. Raphael wanted to see the seas, the rivers. Michael...”

Lucifer goes quiet, and Sam just nods. He’s looking at Lucifer more softly now, barely paying attention to the sky. Lucifer doesn’t want to look down to meet his eyes, so he concentrates on the aurora. The memories are bittersweet, not something he wanted to bring with him to his last night with Sam.

“I just wanted this,” Lucifer says. His voice has gone even quieter, and he’s keenly aware of the emotion in it. “This and sunrises. I have a--”

“The Light-bringer,” Sam breathes. He takes a step forward, so close that Lucifer can feel the heat of him all the way along his body. Sam is not tall enough to block his view of the aurora, but it’s not longer possible to avoid meeting his eyes.

Lucifer risks a glance away from the sky, relieved when he sees that there is no pity in Sam’s face. There is sympathy, and fondness, and sadness.

“There was no light in the cage,” Lucifer tells him. “He knew, and--”

Sam’s lips are warm and dry, soft and feather-light against his own. He’s holding Lucifer’s face gently in both hands, and his eyes are open. There is a question there.

Sam is asking permission.

Lucifer sways forward just a little, pressing their mouths together firmly. He draws in his arms and wraps them around Sam’s back. Everything about Sam is warm, and it seeps into Lucifer’s clothes and his skin. Sam reciprocates, slipping his arms around Lucifer’s shoulders until Lucifer is engulfed in the living heat of him, and for a moment he forgets how cold he is.

The sky above explodes in light, dwarfing the fire and casting harsh shadows down on the snow. The aurora flutters and swirls, changing colors and expanding in a fantastic display. The streams twist and bend in shades of green, blue, and pink, shooting across the sky to disappear beyond the horizon.

Sam breaks the kiss and twists his head to rest his forehead against Lucifer’s shoulder.

“Were you this cold... before?” Sam asks haltingly.

Lucifer gives a tiny shake of his head. “No light, no heat,” he explains.

“I want you to be warm again,” Sam replies. 

Lucifer knows that the moment has not yet come for Sam to give him the permission he needs, but he is hopeful now. The outcome won’t be changed, but perhaps Sam’s path there will be less difficult.

He steps back, letting his arms drop to his sides and immediately missing Sam’s warmth. He is sure that half of him has melted, only to refreeze into something different, formed by the body that had surrounded him. He is not the same.

“We need to go back,” Sam says. 

Lucifer nods agreement. They’re so close now that even Sam seems to know what he’s thinking. It’s a good feeling, stable and solid. This won’t fade when Lucifer leaves him.

“This was beautiful,” Sam adds. “Thank you.”

“It will all be yours soon enough,” Lucifer replies. 

Sam sighs heavily. Lucifer understands, but he thinks that it’s perhaps a less unwelcome thought now than it once was.

“Shall we?” he asks, holding a hand out to Sam.

Every other time they’ve traveled, it has been incidental touches to Sam’s forehead or his shoulder. This time Sam takes his hand freely before giving a single nod.

The motel room is dark and drab in comparison to the stark nordic landscape. Returning feels like a defeat, but there is no getting past it. Lucifer will not interfere with Dean’s plans to come see Sam. It is a necessary part of what is to come.

Sam drops Lucifer’s hand immediately. He keeps his back to him as he toes off his boots and steps out of his wet jeans to toss them over the back of a chair. He hangs his coat on the hook by the door and hangs his shirt beside it. Stripped to just his t-shirt and underwear, he stretches out on the bed, and only then does he look at Lucifer.

“You gonna go, then?” he asks. There’s pain in his voice that finds its way inside Lucifer, too. Neither of them want this to be over, but they both know it has to be. Dean can not find Lucifer here when he turns up in the morning.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” Lucifer reassures him.

Sam considers for a moment, then nods. He turns off the light with a click and settles down onto the bed.

“Thank you,” Sam says, “for everything.”

Lucifer hums but doesn’t answer. He sags back down into his chair across the room and watches Sam as he tosses and turns. Three times Sam opens his eyes and looks at him, and Lucifer is always there, looking back. It tugs at something inside of Lucifer, to know that Sam is checking to make sure he’s still there. He does not want to go.

Dawn is breaking when Sam’s breathing finally evens out. Lucifer stays until he hears the rumble of the Impala.

**Author's Note:**

> In the process of writing this fic, a post came up on my dash that also dealt with Lucifer and the aurora. As luck would have it, it was written by my exchange recipient, and it can be found [here](http://protectivesamgirl.tumblr.com/post/52959546334).


End file.
